Blindsided
by LadyHorror92
Summary: "I doubt Dale will ever see a day as lovely as this one again. Enjoy it while it lasts, Amara." It wasn't coincidence that the day after Amara met that stranger the Dragon came but let her live. As she and Smaug learn the truth of their odd connection, she learns that her sudden blindness as a child was no accident, and that something far more binding has brought them together.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **_**Let me be very clear – I am absolutely not an expert on **_**"The Hobbit"**_** or **_**"The Lord of the Rings"**_**. What I know comes mostly from the movies and the internet, and I am just now beginning to read the books. Don't be mad if I'm not entirely accurate, and constructive criticism is always desired, but please, no flames.  
**_

_**This is Smaug/OFC, and the OFC's name is Amara.**_

**Disclaimer: _I do not own _"The Hobbit"_. If I did, the OFC would have been _  
**

* * *

**_Everything has beauty, but not everybody sees it. – Confucius_ **

**Dale – TA 2770**

It was a beautiful day in the city of Dale, and the streets were bustling with activity. For the past week there had been nothing but rain, a terrible storm rolling through, but now the sun had returned to dry the streets and bring forth the people from their homes.

Amara loved sunny days such as this one, and she tilted her head towards the sky to let the sun warm her face, idly picking at some of the flowers she had purchased. She only had a few minutes left to lean against the merchant's stand in the street before her brother, Theldon, came searching for her. Once found, he would pitch a fit about how unsafe it was for her to wander around on her own as he dragged her back to the home he and his wife shared with her. Theldon was not only her brother, he was her best friend, the one person who had never left her. Their mother died giving birth to her, their father died when she was only ten when he and his hunting party was ambushed by Trolls, and they'd not heard from their eldest brother in many years.

It had been only them for so long, and she knew that he just wanted to keep her safe, but he was beginning to suffocate her! She was no longer the little girl who couldn't venture out of the house for fear that she would become lost the moment she walked three feet, she had turned twenty-two this past Spring and knew quite well how to find her way around Dale.

More than her own discrepancies with her brother's over-protectiveness, she knew that his wife longed for it to be just her and Theldon. Linzana – her brother's wife – was the sweetest woman Amara had ever met and was perfect for her brother, and never did she tell Amara that she didn't want her there. On the contrary, Linzana constantly reassured her that she could stay until old age should she so desire, but Amara knew better and had heard the truth many times over.

She would listen in on Theldon and Linzana's private conversations when in another room, and always when they thought she could not hear they would argue about her still living there. Linzana swore she would never throw her out or force him to choose between her and his sister, but she insisted that Amara needed to learn how to get along on her own, how to handle being so different on her own. Theldon would have none of it, putting his foot down on the matter – as long as he lived, he would look out for Amara.

Oddly enough, Amara always found herself wishing that Linzana could convince him to let her have some space… some freedom. She herself had argued with him about the matter, stating that perhaps she could begin working at the Inn in exchange for housing since the Inn keeper there was a family friend – she'd be on her own but would still have help if she needed it.

As always, Theldon refused, and she wasn't in a position to just up and leave.

She began to grow a little too warm standing in the sun after a while so she backed up a bit until she felt the coolness of the shade created by the tree the flower merchant had set up by.

A light breeze stirred up a menagerie of smells and she sighed in contentment, breathing deep. Of course she could smell the flowers from the merchant's stand as well as the bouquet of flowers in her basket, but it was more than that. A mouthwatering aroma went past her along with the gentle humming of a woman, and she took another breath through her nose – the smell was that of an apple pie. Heavy footsteps sounded in the distance, metal clanking, and tobacco smoke tickled her nose ever so faintly – the city guards were going on their rounds through the city and the tobacco in their pipes was very fresh, so they must have stopped only minutes earlier to get some.

Everything in Dale smelled so fresh and…

Amara frowned, angling her head slightly into the breeze and the oddest scent reached her.

The scent of a fireplace was wonderful no matter what wood was used, and while this new smell was similar that it was very different. It was not unpleasant, just… different, and it made no sense to be smelling it at mid-day and she threw out the notion of someone cooking when the smell gradually grew closer and stronger as if someone wearing the scent was steadily approaching.

Biting softly on her lower lip in concentration, she struggled to pick up on every single sound, every single voice, and every single step coming from those walking by.

There it was!

That scent was directly in front of her, passing her in synch with a pair of sure footsteps.

Her tactic for getting someone's attention when she was unsure of their identity was to call out something about them that she noticed – their scent or a sound they made – and most knew her personally or knew of her to where they understood the oddity of her question. This scent, however, was not one she ever associated with a Human or Dwarf before, not even with cooks and the like, so she ruled out the individual being someone she knew personally.

Undeniably curious, forgoing how strange or rude her question might sound, she called in the direction of the scent, "Why do you smell like a fireplace?"

A single pair of footsteps stopped, so clearly they were aware of the smell as well.

"Is it a proper custom in this city for young maidens to go around asking men why they smell as they do?" the stranger asked, his rich, baritone voice sending a shudder down her spine.

She wasn't typically a shy woman, nor did she have a difficult time speaking to strangers, but this man… his voice… she suddenly felt her nerve waver a bit.

The sharpness of his next words did not help matters any. "Lost your tongue, have you?" he hissed, walking towards her.

"I, uh…"

Witnessing the exchange, the elderly woman who was also the flower merchant snapped at the man, "Can you not see that she is _blind_? Have a look at her pale eyes!"

Amara felt her cheeks redden and she turned her unseeing gaze to the ground instinctively out of embarrassment.

"Blind?" the stranger repeated, coming ever so closer until he was standing directly in front of her. "Let me see your eyes."

Amara hesitated a moment too long and she felt the air shift a second before the man grasped her jaw firmly in his calloused hand and forced her head upwards in his direction. Considering how far back he tilted her head, he was about 6ft and towered over her. Not a Dwarf then, but a Man.

"You brute!" the elderly lady nearly screeched, stomping towards them, and Amara heard a few other footsteps approaching them. "Do not lay a hand on…"

Whatever she had been ready to say died on her tongue and Amara heard the woman slink away, and silence fell a moment before those who had also been approaching hurried off in other directions, much to her dismay. What had made this woman so quick to defend her just walk away along with others?

Her thoughts returned to the man holding her jaw so tightly when he turned her head from side to side, looking her over, and he huffed in realization, "So, you _are _blind. Interesting. Tell me, have you always been this way?"

No, she hadn't, not until she was eight, but damned if she was going to let this brute in on her personal life. "What does it matter? I am blind, end of discussion. Now, let go of me."

"Or you'll what?" he asked, amused. "What could a little defective maiden such as yourself do to _me_?"

The way in which he asked that made her think he was someone of importance.

"I can scream," she replied. "The guards will surely hear me if I do."

"Yes, your guards. Such screams from a pitiful creature do in fact attract equally pitiful protectors," he mused, but he did release her jaw, taking a step back.

Amara brought her hand to her face, massaging the tender skin.

"Now, I will ask again – have you always been blind?" he repeated.

She bit her tongue.

"Answer me, you defective little maiden!"

Name-calling?

Now, _that _was funny.

"No, I went blind from sickness when I was just a child," she bit out, leaving out the details of the sickness purposefully. Then she stood a little taller, regaining a bit of confidence, and she added tightly, "So, if you think that names such as 'defective little maiden' and 'pitiful creature' will have any effect on me, all you will succeed in doing is making me laugh. Many have poked fun at my blindness, and I have been called many things. Do not think that your harsh words are anything but repeats of what I've already heard."

She expected him to erupt in anger – he was clearly a man accustomed to violence and getting his way. Her little snap might get her slapped at the very least.

But he didn't lash out at her, nor did he shout.

Instead, he did something completely baffling.

He laughed!

Frowning, she demanded, "Have I said something to amuse you?"

"Oh, you have indeed," he chuckled darkly. "Brave words for such a maiden. The first, in fact, to speak to me with so very little respect. One look sent that miserable old woman and your so-called protectors scurrying away with their tails between their legs, yet here you stand."

She held her head high. "Then perhaps my blindness is a blessing in disguise."

"How right you may be," he murmured thoughtfully, as if he read something else in her words.

Swallowing, acutely uncomfortable, she asked, "You're not from Dale – your accent is different. You're not among the Men who came from the East – they all smell of fish. So, who are you? Where are you from?"

He walked past her slightly, and she heard him pull a few leaves from the tree. "I am from the North."

"Not very specific," she argued. "What brings you here?"

"I heard rumors that the Dwarf king had accumulated enough gold and jewels to fill the halls within Erebor," he explained casually, crushing the leaves in his fist. "I wish to see for myself if the rumors are true."

That was hardly surprising news to Amara as many had come in recent days to gush over King Thror's accumulation of gold, jewels, and other riches, especially the treasured Arkenstone that was proudly displayed on the Dwarf King's throne.

"From what I've gathered it is quite spectacular," she commented, brushing her fingers over the rough but healthy bark of the tree.

"Yes… it is."

She snapped her head in his direction. "You mean to say that you've seen it?"

He chuckled, a low hypnotizing sound, and replied, "No, I've not seen it."

"Then how do you know –"

"I know gold," he interrupted sternly. "I know it when I've not seen it."

She blinked. "That makes absolutely no sense."

"It would not make sense for one such as yourself."

Shaking her head, she said, "Regardless, if you did wish to see it, I suggest that you attend the party being thrown tonight in the King's honor. All from Dale have been invited into Erebor, and many have come from far around as well to attend. Should ever a time arise where you could catch a glance at the treasure, it is now. Once a year he hosts a function in which all may attend simply so he can brag and boast about his great accumulation of gold and jewels."

"Yes, I've heard whispers of the function. It is what has brought me here this day," the man commented, a note of disapproval in his voice. "A fool's attempt to show off his gold to those who may be tempted to steal it out from under his nose. A true king would not allow but a few select souls to come so close to his treasure."

"Perhaps," she started with a slight nod of agreement. "There are certainly a few within Dale who would not mind to have even a few gold coins from his great halls."

"Are you among those with the desire for gold?"

She shrugged. "I would not complain if I came into the possession of gold, if that's what you are asking. But I do not steal, nor have I ever come so close to his gold that I would be tempted to take a single coin."

"So you've not attended these functions in the past?"

She shook her head and explained regretfully, "My brother fears there are too many chances for me to get lost or hurt considering my… defect, as you and so many others have seen fit to call it. It's rare that I get a moment to myself such as this, in fact."

"You are a treasure to him?"

"I suppose you could say that," she confirmed with a nod, though she'd never considered herself to be a treasure.

"Then your brother is as foolish as the king for letting you out of his sight."

"Excuse me?" she demanded, insulted that he would dare call her brother a fool.

"Should a treasure be of such great value, it should be guarded with your very life and not let out of sight for a single second, nor should anyone be permitted to touch it." As if to prove a point, she felt him take her chin between his fingers far more gently than he had moments ago. "Anyone could come up and steal you from his grasp."

Amara swallowed the lump that had formed in her throat, the intense heat of his touch and low tone of his voice clouding her mind.

And then, just like that, one voice several feet away snapped her out of her daze.

"You! Get your hands off my sister!" shouted Theldon, hurrying towards them.

The stranger removed his hand from her face and took a few lazy steps back. "My apologies," he said to Theldon with false sincerity.

Ignoring him, hands going to her shoulders and urging her to face him, Theldon asked Amara, "Are you all right?"

"Y-Yes," she stuttered, shaking off the effects of that man's burning touch and deep hypnotic voice. "I'm fine. We were just chatting, is all."

His tone changed then from concerned to angry, and he demanded, "One minute! That was all! I told you to wait for one damn minute! What were you thinking? You could have gotten hurt!"

Before she could utter another word, the stranger spoke up and said, "Should you be so concerned for the safety of what is precious to you, you should not have let her venture from your sight."

"And who are you exactly?" Theldon demanded angrily.

Unfazed, he replied cryptically, "The man your blind sister was chatting with."

"Your name!" Theldon hissed. "Now!"

"My name is of no importance to you. Now, I have more important matters to attend to and will not have my time wasted further," the stranger said curtly, pausing for a few seconds and Amara felt the hairs standing up on her neck that came with the distinct sense that he was staring at her. In a tone lower and far softer than the one he'd used to address her brother, he said in farewell, "I doubt Dale will ever see a day as lovely as this one again. Do enjoy it while it lasts… Amara."

Never had the use of her name sent her heart pounding before, but something about the stranger was just so _different_.

Growling under his breath, Theldon took her by the arm, startling her out of her trance. "Come on, before you make any more friends," he grumbled, pulling her back down the street in the opposite direction of the stranger.

* * *

If there was one thing that Smaug detested most it was wasting his time on a kingdom that had nothing to offer him. And so whenever a rumor of gold reached his ears he would undergo the uncomfortable process of Changing from that of a mighty Dragon to a mere man.

The Change, as his kind called it, was quite painful, his scales falling from his body like ash as his very wings and tail disintegrated. Bones would break, skin would tighten… it was just downright painful, and it felt so degrading to walk in the form of such a pathetic creature. But it was necessary hassle in order to see if what he was after was worth his time.

And so when he heard whispers of King Thror's gold and the great Arkenstone, he was quick to make the journey south during a massive storm that masked his presence in the sky. When at last he reached the dense forest far from Dale, he chose a spot large enough to hide his bulk and dropped onto the ground a trunk filled with clothes fit for a king from his last hoard that he'd clutched in his claws. In the throes of unbearable pain as the Change took over, Smaug had dug his sharp teeth into his gums, drawing blood in an attempt to prevent a roar from escaping his throat.

It was not long before his form had Changed, and he'd peered at his reflection in a stream – black short curly hair, pale skin, and ice blue eyes. Unbearably ordinary in his eyes, though many women had fawned over him in this form. He supposed he could take comfort that he was at least not hideous as a human. Quickly he dressed in fine black and blood red garments, a black cloak to shield him from the rain, a sword of elvish design strapped to his belt, and before long he made the long trek to a ferry that took him across Long Lake where he continued on into the city of Dale.

As it was night at the time of his arrival, he'd had to seek refuge in the Inn, grudgingly parting with a few coins in his pocket. Handing away what was his was enough to make him ill, but it was well worth the pain if what he sought in the Dwarf kingdom was as great as he hoped.

All that gold…

He could feel it in his very bones – the gold was very real, and it was so close, but he wanted to see it first with human eyes. He wanted to walk into the Lonely Mountain as a man with the Dwarves and Men unaware of the danger before them, unaware that they were little more than walking ghosts.

But there was more than gold and jewels that had captured his attention.

Such an odd girl, that Amara, he noted as he walked along the streets.

Never had he encountered a blind individual before, and it was disconcerting to say the least for someone not to fall under his Dragon-spell when he looked them in the eye. Though his voice and touch had a clear effect, she had not reacted as she should have. She had not bent to his will, had not shrank before the very sight of him because in fact she could not see him. She was also rather impressive for a human. He doubted many others could detect the underlined scent of ash that was reminiscent of burning wood as a result of the Change, yet she had called him out on it, the scent catching her attentions.

Oddity and defect aside, he supposed she would be considered beautiful by human standards – dark brown hair pulled back in a long braid, lightly tanned skin, petite in stature, even her pale blue eyes were alluring. More importantly, she appeared to be treasured by some, and Smaug oh so loved treasure. He hadn't a use for a maiden, though, but had he come a few days earlier, he would have perhaps allowed himself to learn more about her if only to sate his curiosity.

A pity he hadn't, he thought with a sigh.

Regardless of his fascination of her, come morning, Smaug would lay waste to Dale and claim the Lonely Mountain as his kingdom.

* * *

_**Reviews, please! Reviews let me know that you wish for more.**_


	2. Chapter 2

Amara rarely asked her brother for anything, but when she did Theldon often gave in to her demands and let her have whatever she wanted. This was not going to be one of those times, or at least he would fight her tooth and nail on the matter.

"No!" Theldon snapped. "Absolutely not, Amara!"

She threw up her hands, pacing from one side of the room to the next, careful of her steps. "A few hours, Theldon – that is all I am asking!"

"You have enough trouble getting around Dale on your own," he argued, and she heard him fighting with the ornate buckles of his clothes, muttering a quiet oath. "Step one foot from me in Erebor and I'll have to acquire the help of the Dwarves just to find you again."

Rolling her eyes, she insisted, "I won't wander, I promise."

Theldon snorted, not believing her for one second, which he really shouldn't.

Despite her blindness, Amara loved to explore, loved to discover new things. She had gotten into more than a little trouble here and there by wandering off for a little adventure, something she certainly would never grow out of. Once, in fact, she had walked clear out of Dale and got lost in the forest!

Theldon had been frantic with worry, but she'd been exactly the opposite – she'd had the time of her life out there! Finding her way to the lake, she'd happily waited with her feet in the water for her brother to find her. He would argue that her becoming lost for hours that day was a good reason to keep her under lock and key, but she argued that it was proof that she would be fine even if she did get lost.

Sighing, needing help to convince her brother to let her attend the event in Erebor, Amara inclined her head towards her brother's wife. "Linzana, will you talk some sense into him?"

The woman laughed softly, finding the whole argument amusing to a degree, and asked Theldon, "What is the harm in letting her come with us, dear?"

"Do not tell me you think this to be a good idea?" Theldon groaned, rubbing his hand down his face.

"What I think," Linzana began. "Is that she is quite old enough to pick and choose where she goes and where she doesn't. Besides, she's never attended any of the King's functions in the past."

"That is another thing – why do you sudden want so very bad to go at all, Amara?" Theldon asked, finishing with the buckles of the rich vest he wore over a tunic, both of which he wore only on special occasions. Linzana had told her once that the clothes were the colors green and gold, costing quite a bit, and the boots he wore were of the finest leather. She imagined that her brother looked incredibly presentable dressed so well, a rare sight indeed for the sighted folk. Theldon preferred wearing clothes he could easily work in, not these fancy things Linzana always had him wear when dragging him to any formal gathering.

Pausing in her pacing, Amara searched around until she found a chair, bracing her hands on it for stability. "I just… Every year I hear all of Dale talking about it, and every year I am told what I missed. For once, I would like to be included."

She dared not tell him that hearing the stranger speak of going had in fact peaked her interest in the idea.

For a moment, her thoughts wandered and she found herself dwelling on that strange encounter earlier in the day. Never had she been so insulted and flustered all at once before, least of all by a man she didn't know. Perhaps a friend could make her feel scatter-brained, but certainly not a stranger whose words should not stick in her mind.

"_I doubt Dale will ever see a day as lovely as this one again. Do enjoy it while it lasts… Amara."_

What on Earth had he meant by that?

Was the weather intending to change?

Did he know something she didn't?

And the way he said her name…

A shudder ran through her at the mere thought, no one having ever said her name like _that _before. It was all so disconcerting, but those were thoughts for another time.

Theldon ground his teeth. "You've no gowns."

"I have plenty of gowns too small for me," Linzana announced with a smile in her voice. "She can wear one of mine."

"You're a good five inches taller than she, Linzana," Theldon tried, searching for any excuse to keep his sister at home.

There was an eye roll in his wife's voice when she said, "So, the gown will drag. I hardly see how that is an issue."

"She's blind! She has enough time not tripping without having to worry about stepping on her skirt!"

"Did you forget that you married a seamstress, dear Theldon?" Linzana inquired. "I can alter it enough to where not so much will drag. And besides, she has hands – she can hold her skirts up enough so as they do not drag in front of her should she need to."

Amara smiled when she heard Theldon groan, snatching his pint of ale from the counter with too much force. "Best surrender now, brother – this is a fight you won't win."

Downing the contents of the pint, Theldon sighed heavily, all the fight leaving him. "… We'll leave once you're ready, Amara."

Grinning from ear to ear, Amara hurried across the room to where he brother stood, nearly colliding with a chair in her haste as she threw her arms around him in a tight embrace. "You won't regret this, Theldon!"

"I already do," he grumbled, a faint smile in his voice.

* * *

It didn't take much time at all for Amara to get ready with Linzana's help.

Both women were quick to get ready, though Amara greatly detested how tight the corset was on her and had insisted that Linzana loosen the strings just a bit – she did need to breathe after all. She slipped into the dress that Linzana picked out for her, one of various shades of blue that she was assured would flatter her pale blue eyes – she took Linzana's word for it for obvious reasons, and tried to conjure up an image of how it may look in her mind's eye.

The dress was a light shade of blue with intricate designs sewn into the gown with gold colored thread, the long sleeves needing to be cut and altered so that the ended at her writs. As for the sur-coat, it was a very dark shade of blue with long flowing sleeves. The low neckline of the dress was decorated with jewels of little value but were still just as beautiful as diamonds, and the sur-coat was lined with gold colored embroidery.

Far simpler than the dresses of many other women in Dale, but still beautiful, Linzana assured her.

All in all, it did sound beautiful, though Amara firmly believed that the image in her mind was as nice as the real thing. She remembered what things looked like from her memories before she'd gone blind, but it was hard to conjure up anything believable. Most of the time, any image in her mind was based off touch alone, her mind and memories putting the pieces together with the little clues she felt and smelled. Hardly images she could put a lot of faith in, but it was all she had, the only way she could see in her own way.

While Linzana had altered the bottom of the dress and sur-coat as best as she could in the short amount of time, Amara had brushed her hair, waiting patiently for Linzana to finish so she could do her hair for her. She settled on something simple, and that was brushing her long hair to the side in a very loose braid with a gold flower pin in the center, a few long wisps of hair hanging free around her face.

The fabric was soft, but Amara fidgeted on their short journey to Erebor, so unaccustomed to wearing such things. Her only source of comfort and surety once actually entering the Dwarf kingdom came from holding onto her brother's arm with one hand and gripping her walking stick in her other.

She wanted to wander, wanted to explore, but all these new sounds and smells were giving her a mild headache, and instead of doing as she wanted she merely tightened her grip on Theldon's arm.

Her brother chuckled. "Perhaps you will hold true to your promise for once."

She inclined her head towards him and asked, "I'm sorry?"

"Your promised not to wander," he clarified with a note of amusement. "As it is, I'll have to pry your hand from my arm should I want to be alone at any point."

She glared up in his direction, not finding that funny at all. Her senses were on overload, and here he was pleased about it!

"Oh, Theldon, be nice!" scolded Linzana with an airy laugh.

"Am I ever not nice?"

Amara snorted but made no comment.

Theldon was a very nice man, yes, but he had a bad habit of poking fun at her at even the worst of times. Amusing to most, but utterly annoying to Amara.

"Theldon!" called a familiar voice, the owner strolling over to them.

Theldon gripped his friend's shoulder firmly in greeting. "Hadrian – I thought you and Ysmey would be home tending to your children. The little one is sick, correct?"

Ysmey – Hadrian's wife – replied, "She is, the poor thing, but my mother all but threw us out. She insisted that we have a bit of fun while she watches over the children."

"And I see you finally let little Amara out of her dungeon!" joked Hadrian. "Had I not seen her for my own two eyes, I'd have not believed it!"

Amara pulled a face at being called 'little Amara' by their family friend, something he had called her since they were all children. She was no longer a child and she didn't appreciate being treated as such.

"Yes, well, I believed it time for her to experience the excitement of the King's part for herself now that she is a bit older," Theldon replied with a grin, and Amara ground her teeth so hard they hurt.

A bit older – she was twenty-two! She was plenty old enough when she was but only fifteen, the age of which most girls began attending the King's yearly function!

Always a child in Theldon's eyes, and he always watched her as if she were little more than a toddler who would fumble and fall if let out of his sight because of her blindness. And he _always _took credit for any ounce of freedom he allowed her, like it was his decision and idea all along. Even now, he spoke as if her attending the party was his idea, bragging and boasting about it. She loved him, she truly did, but it was very insulting.

Linzana knew this, knew of Theldon's pride, and spoke up, "Oh, please, Theldon! Had she not pestered you so, you'd have locked her inside as you do every year!"

Hadrian and Ysmey erupted into laughter, and Amara smirked when Theldon fidgeted beside her.

"Yes, well, uh," Theldon started, caught in his little fib. "It took some persuasion, yes, but…"

"My love, stop while you are ahead," Linzana advised, smiling at his discomfort. "Now, I believe you owe me a dance."

"And what of Amara?"

Amara rolled her eyes, letting go of her brother's arm and stepping back carefully until her back connected with a great pillar they'd been close to. "Go, enjoy yourselves. I'll be just fine right here. Besides, there is plenty going on to hold my attention."

Too much going on, but she let that thought remain silent.

"Amara –"

"Go," she repeated more firmly, putting on a smile for his sake. "I won't wander off – I'll be right here rooted to this spot once you've finished dancing."

He hesitated a moment longer until Linzana hurried him along, hauling him away to where others were dancing to the energetic music being played by the Dwarves. She waited a bit, and once certain that they'd gone and she was no longer within sight, she breathed a weary sigh and rubbed the side of her head, flexing her fingers around her walking stick.

Amara had begun to regret her decision to come to Erebor, the chaos nearly driving her mad.

Hundreds of people were talking all at once, music was being played that had some dancing and some singing along in pure fun, plates and goblets were clanking constantly in everyone's haste to eat and drink, boots echoed through the great hall like thunder, and that was just a handful of the sounds grinding on her nerves. The smells were another thing entirely, everything from food, perfumes, alcohol, flowers, burning wood from the massive hearths, and body odor assaulting her. She was on sensory overload, and she suddenly longed for the peace and quiet of her home.

Here she had wanted to explore, but now she hardly wanted to leave the pillar, and she would have stayed there as she'd promised had she not suddenly desired a drink of wine. Perhaps that would calm her nerves.

Now, if she could only find it…

Going off sound alone, she figured the food and wine was located across the great hall to her right. A considerable journey for someone unable to see where they were going, and she was more than a little uneasy with it all. Most of Dale at least knew that she was blind and didn't give her trouble for it, but should she bump into a Dwarf who knew nothing of her problem she could make them quite mad. She didn't want to step on anyone's toes, both literally and figuratively.

Precisely why she needed a glass of wine – she needed so bad to relax.

Worrying on her lower lip, she pushed off the pillar and made her way into the crowd, carefully moving her walking stick from side to side in front of her, praying she didn't bump into the wrong person or knock anyone in the shin with it.

"Excuse me… sorry… pardon me…" she apologized constantly as she walked, finding that she managed to bump shoulders with both fellow Humans as well as Dwarves, men and women alike, and received more than a few nasty words in reply.

At some point she was thrown off course by trying to work her way around everyone, and all she wished to do was find a quiet place where she could stand without being a bother. Yes, this had definitely been a bad idea, and she should have stayed at home she noted with no small ounce of frustration.

Someone off to her left stumbled into her, making her drop her walking stick as she fought to right herself and keep from falling. "Watch where you're going!" Amara snapped angrily, face flush with embarrassment. Here she thought she'd be the one to nearly knock someone over, not be the one to almost be knocked over.

"Sorry, lass!" the man slurred, clearly having enjoyed too much of the Dwarves alcohol. Considering how he smelled of fish, she took him to be one of the Lake Men who had come on the ferry that day, not a resident of Dale.

In no mood to get into it with a drunk, she asked whilst moving her foot along the floor, "Can you help me find my walking stick, please? I've dropped it."

"Your walking stick?" he exclaimed, utterly confused. "We're not in the forest, nor do you have a limp!"

"I'm blind," she explained, growing ever the more flustered without the cane, feeling lost in a sea of people. "Now, could you please help me?"

"Blind? Ha!" His laugh was like a bark, so loud it nearly made her flinch. And then she felt fingers in her hair, giving a loose lock a little tug. "Never met me a blind woman before…"

"Get your hand off me!" she hissed, smacking away his chubby hand.

He only laughed harder, his hands going to her shoulders in an attempt to tug her towards him. "Oh, don't be like that, lassie! Just a little dance, that's all I ask!"

"I'd rather dance with a mangy dog, now get your filthy hands off me before… before…"

"Before what?" he demanded, the humor in his slurred words becoming more serious.

Raking her mind for an excuse of any kind, she blurted, "I am here with someone. Should he see me dancing with anyone but him he will become quite angry."

He released a bellowing laugh. "You are here with no suitor of any kind, lassie! Now, enough games! Come dance with me or –"

"Or what?" interrupted a deep baritone voice that Amara recognized immediately.

The stranger from earlier approached them with an easy stride, the unique scent of burning would that seemed to follow him reaching Amara's nose, and never had she been so happy to be found before.

Obviously not expecting anyone to interrupt them, the drunk snapped, "This doesn't concern you! Get lost!

"Doesn't it?" he questioned, coming up until his stood directly behind Amara. "You lay your hands on my companion for the evening – a blind woman, no less – and you expect that this is no concern of mine?"

Amara felt herself about to correct him, about to snap that she was not here with him and that she wanted _everyone_ to just leave her be, but the words never made it out of her throat as realization hit her. He must have heard her tell the drunk that she'd come with a man and was seeking to authenticate her claim.

Wisely, she kept silent.

"Companion?" the drunk slurred in bewilderment.

"Yes, and I do not tolerate the stinking hands of any man to touch what is mine," the stranger hissed, and Amara nearly shrank at his tone and it wasn't even aimed at her. She didn't quite like how he said 'mine' though, even if it were only for show. He was too sincere about it for her liking.

The drunk's hands trembled violently and he quickly released her, giving her a shove back into the stranger's solid chest. "My apologies, Sir! I-I meant no disrespect!" he stuttered, already hurrying away.

Amara blew out a sigh of relief, glad to be rid of the man.

A hot, calloused hand took hold of hers, reminding her that she wasn't alone as the stranger placed it upon his bicep.

Uncomfortable with the action, she tried to yank her hand back but he kept his firmly atop of it. "What are you doing?" she demanded.

"Ensuring you do not attract the attention of the pathetic again," he explained with a note of distaste. "I am amazed your brother let you attend."

"Perhaps I snuck off."

That made him chuckle, low and deep. "Given how a simple crowd of people was your undoing, I fail to see how you could have managed to wander here from Dale. Had I not found you when I did, that man have made off with you to some dark corner."

That thought about made her sick to her stomach, but she insisted, "I was quite fine without your intervention."

"No, you weren't."

"Where are you taking me?" she demanded once they began walking.

"Someplace private," he replied with a frustrated sigh, as if her questions were ridiculous.

Private? As in alone with _him_?

How was this any better than that drunken brute wanting to wander off with her?

"No!" she hissed, digging her feet into the floor in protest. "No, I am not going anywhere with you."

He damn near growled under his breath but abruptly pulled his arm from her grasp. "Very well. Good luck finding your way back to your brother without your walking stick. Perhaps you can find your cane – it should be right where you dropped it. Hard to miss."

Amara stared in his direction, shocked. "You can't be serious?"

No reply came, not a sound at all that didn't belong to someone else from the crowd or from the Dwarves playing their music.

She turned in a full circle, as lost as she'd ever been, and she felt her cheeks turn red with anger and embarrassment at her predicament. She could ask someone to take her back to where she'd been standing – wherever that had been – or to help her find her walking stick, but both thoughts only heightened her embarrassment. She despised asking for help, and she did not want to draw more attention to herself than she already had, and she'd had enough of dealing with strangers for the evening.

Picking a direction that was to her liking, she started forward.

"Not that way," the stranger's hot breath hissed in her ear behind her, making her nearly jump out of her skin.

She spun around, colliding with a woman passing by.

"Oh, I am so sorry!" Amara apologized hastily, hating how hot her cheeks felt.

No longer feeling that she'd been going in the right direction, she turned to go a different way.

To her left, the stranger chuckled in pure amusement, and she glared in his direction, stopping dead in her tracks.

This was all some twisted game to him, and she would likely find herself wandering over every inch of Erebor and would never find her way or her walking stick. The stranger knew this and had left her to her own devices to prove a point – she needed his assistance.

If she wanted to avoid any further trips or altercations, she really didn't have much choice but to trust the one stranger who wasn't quite as strange as the rest.

* * *

_**Review, please! Reviews let me know that you wish for more!**_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: **_**I just want to thank everyone for the reviews/favs/follows! Seriously, I was worried that having Amara be blind would lead to no one liking this story.**_

_**This is a direct continuation of the previous chapter.**_

* * *

"All right!" Amara caved, throwing her hands up, aware of how ridiculous she probably seemed.

The stranger took her hand once more, startling her, and returned it to his arm. "A wise decision."

"The only decision, more like. Not necessarily the wisest," she mumbled under her breath.

The two walked in silence for a minute or two, the stranger leading her through the crowd without a single individual bumping into her.

"You know, you've yet to tell me your name," Amara commented.

"Ah, yes, my name," the man sighed, annoyed. "So many of you are keen to know my name. Why do you suppose that is?"

"Uh, well…" What kind of question was that? "I assume it would be easier to call you by your name than to think of you as little more than a stranger. What is the harm in speaking your name to me?"

"It would not be harmful, but to be called by my name appearing as I do would be downright insulting," he replied sourly.

Amara blinked, not expecting such an odd explanation.

Did he somehow appear different from how he normally did?

Was he a lord of some kind under the belief that somehow his attire was unfitting of his title?

"You are so strange," Amara observed before she could stop herself.

Coming to an abrupt halt, the man stepped in front of her, his hot breath fanning over her face as he towered over her. "You dare insult me by calling me strange? I, who helped be rid of that man who would sooner defile you than treat you as a treasure?"

Gulping, Amara stuttered, "I-I didn't mean it to be insulting."

He snorted.

"Honest!" she insisted, hurrying to mend the situation. "Sometimes strange can be considered a compliment, holding the same meaning as to say one is unique. I would sooner be in the company of one who is strange than one who is ordinary."

Tension hung in the air as thick as smoke, causing Amara's heart to beat quick with panic.

And then the man huffed, partially amused. "Odd compliments from and odd woman," he concluded tightly as he continued walking with her on his arm, clearly still put off by being called strange.

Amara chose then to keep her mouth shut for the time being lest she say something else that could be mistaken for an insult. How so very easy it was to insult this stranger! Surely he would see that she meant nothing bad by it. All she had meant by calling him strange was that, well, that was what he was – strange – and that it was hardly a bad thing. On the contrary, she'd been very honest when she told him that she preferred the company of folk considered to be strange or odd than to be around ordinary people – dull people. It just hadn't come out the way she'd meant it to.

After a time, she took notice that the sound of music, laughter, and such grew very distant as if they were miles away, though she assumed that they'd merely gone down a hall or two. Where they were going exactly, she hadn't a clue, but she could hardly deny that she was curious.

"You said your brother refused to allow you to attend these parties each year," the stranger said suddenly.

Turning her head towards him momentarily, she shrugged, "I managed to convince him to let me come on the condition that I didn't wander. Considering how I don't always make such a fuss as I did today, it must have gotten through to him that I genuinely wanted to attend this time."

A dark chuckle rose from his throat, the sound nearly hypnotic, and he noted, "Your brother's trust in you is misplaced, I do believe, Amara."

"Perhaps," she grumbled.

"It is a fact," he insisted. "He brought you, his precious little treasure, to this party with the single rule that you would not wander from his sight, yet I find you in the middle of the hall in a struggle with a fat oaf. And then you allow me to lead you down winding halls towards a destination you know nothing of."

"If you knew my brother you would not seek to lecture me on why I am not keeping my word to him," she snapped angrily. "I love him, yes, but I have long since grown tired of being treated like a possession and I will not stand for it anymore!"

"On the contrary, you are seen as a possession of a sort by your brother. If one see's you as such, it makes no difference whether you will stand for it or if you won't."

"I am a person," she hissed. "I am his sister, yes, I am indebted to him for all he's done for me, but I am not something to be owned."

He snorted. "Everything is to be owned."

Fingers tightening on his arm, she challenged, "Even you?"

Now _that _saw to him tensing immensely, and the very air thickened around her as her fight or flight instinct kicked in.

Through his teeth, fighting the rage simmering beneath the surface, he hissed, "I am owned by no one, least of all by the pathetic!"

She gathered what little courage she had and replied, "Then do not say that everything is to be owned when you will not include yourself."

"I will say what I wish, when I wish, and you'll hold your tongue and not call me 'owned' ever again!" the man nearly growled in irritation, muscles going tense beneath the soft fabric of his coat he wore over his tunic and vest.

She wanted to argue, but her gut told her to keep her mouth shut this time around, not wanting to press her luck with a man she didn't know. The last thing she needed to do was infuriate a stranger with whom she would be alone with in an unfamiliar place.

By now, the sounds of music and laughter were little more than echoes bouncing off the greats walls of the halls they were walking through.

Suddenly, the man pulled her sharply to the right with him, causing her to stumble.

"What are you –" The man clasped his rough hand over her mouth, silencing her and he pulled her tightly against his chest.

For a moment she panicked, but then she heard voices approaching – not many, maybe only a few Dwarves.

With how they were obviously hiding, Amara assumed that perhaps they were somewhere they weren't supposed to be. That thought made her nervous. She did not want to get into any trouble within the Dwarf kingdom – she didn't want to get into trouble at all.

After a tense few seconds, Amara could no longer hear the chatter of the passing Dwarves, and she relaxed a bit.

The man kept his hand over her mouth for a few seconds longer before he released a breath and pulled his hand away, walking them out of their hiding place.

Inclining her head towards the direction the Dwarves had gone, Amara asked, "We're not supposed to be here, are we?"

"How very perceptive of you," he chuckled lowly.

"I don't think this is a good idea…"

Sighing, irritated with her, he said, "Then return to the great hall if you think you can find your way."

"I just may do that," she argued stubbornly.

"That would be a sight. You'd sooner walk over a ledge than walk down the correct corridor."

Grinding her teeth, she straightened and kept her hand on his arm.

She'd be a fool if she went off on her own.

After a bit, she heard their footsteps echo more significantly, and the man warned, "There are steps in front of you."

Nodding, she felt around for the step before stepping down, more sure of herself once she learned how far each step was from the other. She really hated steps, unable to judge right off the bat the distance between each step, and she tried to avoid them whenever she could by asking people around her if she was near steps if she thought she was.

"Where are we going?" Amara demanded once again, keeping her tone quiet since she was now certain that they weren't supposed to have wandered this way.

"To the king's very heart," he replied, a note of awe in his voice that caught her attention as they descended the staircase more than his words.

What had captured his attention to the extent that his tone had changed to that degree?

And what exactly did he consider to be the king's heart?

It was quite a walk, the staircase rather lengthy, and she sort of stumbled once she reached the bottom, having expected another step.

"Careful, now. Wouldn't want you to fall, would we?" he mocked.

She glared in his direction, walking forward with him, until he slipped his arm from her grasp and stepped away from her, leaving her alone in her darkness.

"What are you doing?" she asked, listening for him, unsure of what he was doing.

"If you could see again for even a single moment," the man started in an awed tone, almost as if he were in a daze. "Surely _this _would be what you would wish to see."

"And what is _this _that I would want to see so badly?"

"Step forward and see for yourself," the man instructed.

Not sure if she should trust him, Amara didn't readily do as he said, not wanting to walk right into a trap or something.

Sighing, irritated with her lack of compliance, the man said, "Do not make me force you to move, Amara."

Grinding her teeth, she took a breath and finally started forward, walking with her hands in front of her and careful of her step. She wasn't entirely sure what he was getting at since she couldn't see a thing, but then her foot hit something that fell over like a little waterfall at her feet with the sound of metal lightly hitting metal.

Amara frowned.

She leaned down to touch what had made the noise and was startled to feel coins beneath her fingers, smooth and cool to the touch. She also felt something round but rough – a gem, maybe? Where was she? Where had he taken her?

Then it hit her like a tidal wave and she stood up slowly, stunned.

"This… this is King Thror's treasure, isn't it?"

He chuckled darkly and she heard him pick up a few coins before letting them fall back to the pile of gold one by one. "The King's precious gold and jewels. So easy to get to – I'm almost disappointed by the ease of it. Why, should a mere human be able to reach it, then it would not be a trial at all for, say… a dragon."

"Don't even joke about something like," she murmured with a shudder, the thought of a dragon scaring her. "We shouldn't be here. It isn't permitted."

"Yet here we stand. Should the king wish for no one to enter his great treasure room, he would have had guards at the door. Instead, all guards are attending his function, his… party. His greed, pride, everything… he wants all to know how powerful he feels."

"We shouldn't be in here," Amara insisted, backing up but nearly tripping over a gold cup that had fallen at some point. "Take me back to the hall, now!"

"You do not give more orders, woman," the stranger hissed, only with half the bite.

She got the feeling that he was too taken by the sight of all the gold and jewels – she assumed it was awe worthy. It was the only reason, she suspected, that hadn't spoken to her quite as harshly. But it was clear that she would not be going anywhere until he was ready to leave.

Anxiously, scared and unnerved by the whole thing, exceedingly confused, she reached down and picked up a few coins in one hand, dragging her fingers over them. They were cold to the touch and dusty, like they had just been left to sit and be gazed upon from by the king. No real care was bestowed upon them, and she didn't know how she felt about that.

She had only a few items that she would call her treasure, and she kept them clean and well cared for. The King's treasure didn't feel like much of a treasure, it felt like an obsession, a sickness that left him craving more than he needed. By the sound in the stranger's voice ever since he laid his eyes on the gold and jewels, it sounded to her like perhaps he suffered from the same sickness as King Thror as he sifted his fingers through the coins, jewels, and gold.

"You!" shouted someone from the staircase. "What are you doing in here?"

Amara nearly jumped out of her skin when the stern voice shouted at her and the stranger, and she spun to face the direction the voice originated from. Following the one who had spoken was the sound of boots from maybe five or six others along with the distinct clanging of armor and swords.

Dwarves.

She had been so lost in her own thoughts that she had not heard them coming, and perhaps not even the stranger heard them, though he certainly did not sound too concerned when he came to stand by her side.

"I… we just…" she stammered quickly, frightened.

"Please, forgive my companion," the stranger implored smoothly. "Her curiosity got the better of her and she lost her way in the massive halls."

Standing before them, the Dwarf demanded, "And she could not find her way back before she stumbled into my grandfather's treasure room?"

Grandfather?

Amara's heart quickened with panic at the realization that they had not been caught by just any Dwarf, but by Thorin Oakenshield, King Thror's grandson.

"You've failed to notice such an obvious flaw?" the stranger questioned, amusement in his voice for whatever reason. "The light is poor, but surely even you can see the paleness of her eyes."

The room became thick with tension as Thorin took a step towards her, and Amara fought the urge to shrink towards the stranger because the last thing he needed was a boost to his ego, and she was not about to act anymore frightened than she already felt.

Looking at her, studying her, Thorin ordered, "Turn your eyes towards me."

Fighting the wave of anxiety coursing through her, she looked in his direction.

A beat past before Thorin added in disbelief, "Blind as she is, how do you explain you finding her way from your side at the party, down the halls, and down the staircase to the King's treasure?"

Before the stranger could venture to reply, to speak some lie, Amara blurted out, "I was frightened."

Thorin regarded her for a moment before he repeated, "Frightened?"

"Yes. I, um…" Amara hesitated, nervous. She was not one to openly show fear, not really, but men reacted far better in her experience to a frightened blind maiden than they did to a spirited one. To keep herself and the stranger out of trouble, she would forgo some of her perception of dignity. With a quiver to her voice, she explained, "I became lost while searching for the wine in the immense crowd of the party when a brute of a man tried to make off with me. I managed to free myself from his grasp but I lost my walking stick and I… I was just so frightened that he was looking for me that I took off from the party. The halls leading here were the most quiet so I sought refuge here to regain my composure. I was nearly halfway down the stairs before my companion found me by sheer luck, and I'd have fallen and broken my neck had he not found me when he did. For my sake, he insisted that we remain here until I was ready to return to the party. Surely, my lord, you understand… I didn't… I… I feared that man would…" she trailed off with a believable look of repulsion, inching towards the stranger whilst she hugged herself for show.

The stranger's strong arm snaked around her waist, his hand boldly gripping her hip and sending a mixture of irritation, embarrassment, and heat surging through her veins. She told herself it was all for show, nothing more than an act meant to put Thorin at ease, yet she could not deny how possessive his hold on her felt, and that flustered her just as much as it worried her.

Another beat passed before Thorin sighed, weary and annoyed. "Luck is with you this night, my lady. Had you taken one wrong stepped you'd have fallen over the bridges in the halls you crossed or broken your neck or leg by falling down these steps." Pausing, he added, "Just as you are lucky your companion found your walking stick in the chaotic crowd."

Amara blinked, confused, but then the stranger chuckled in dark amusement just as she felt the smooth wood of her walking stick be pressed into her hand.

Speaking to Thorin, the stranger explained smoothly, "It would have been cruel of me not to find her walking stick before searching for her when it is her only means of independently wandering about. Why, should she not have it, she would have no choice but to rely on me entirely for guidance."

"Indeed," Thorin agreed, seemingly oblivious the rage boiling beneath Amara's skin.

He'd had her walking stick all along, that twisted stranger!

Gripping it tightly, knuckles turning white, she swore to never let it leave her grasp again.

"Unless you wish to question us further, I believe it is time Amara and I returned to the party," the stranger said. "Don't you agree, my lord?"

Thorin sighed, still clearly frustrated by the whole situation, and huffed, "Be out of my sight, and do well to keep your companion from wandering where she should not be."

Amara felt the stranger bow slightly as he urged her forward to the staircase, but she was far too angry to bid a proper farewell to Thorin, focusing instead on not snapping at the arrogant man beside her.

The journey back to the party was what she hoped would be a quiet one, but unfortunately she was not that lucky, for the moment they were alone in the great halls, the stranger saw fit to break the silence.

"Your performance was quite convincing," the stranger praised with a wicked smile in his voice. "Here I thought that being in the presence of a blind maiden would cool the tempers should we be found, but you proved to be an excellent little liar."

Her presence would cool the tempers should they be found?

She blinked, wondering briefly what he meant when it suddenly hit her like a bucket of icy water from the lake, and she skidded to a halt, turning to face him angrily.

"You used me, didn't you?" Amara demanded angrily. "You… you didn't help me with that man out of the goodness of your heart! You saw me as a tool to be used so you could look on the King's treasure and purposefully kept my walking stick from me so I would have no choice but to rely on you!"

Rather than be embarrassed or angry, the stranger chuckled, entirely amused. "Why, you are perceptive, aren't you?" he mocked.

Beyond angry with him, beyond thinking clearly, Amara reacted and slapped him, her inability to see causing her hand to connect sharply with more of the front of his face and directly with his nose.

Instantly, he made her regret it.

With a vicious snarl that was nearly animalistic, the stranger grabbed her tightly by the throat and backed her up so quickly that she tripped over her own two feet, only remaining standing because of his hold on her throat. He slammed her back against the wall so hard that her back would surely be bruised in the morning, and she clawed at his hand, gasping for breath.

"How dare you strike me?" the stranger hissed in her ear, his hot breath wafting over her face. "You think you can disrespect me like that and just walk away? I could snap your neck like a frail twig with but a twist of my hand or strangle the life from you, and in this dark corner not a soul would see your struggles!"

Choking, dizziness overcoming her, she clawed at his hands, at his face and neck, and pleaded on broken gasps, "P-Please… I… I-I ca-… can't breathe!"

"What?" he snarled, tightening his grip on her neck. "I didn't catch that."

She held tight to the buckles of his leather vest that he wore over a soft tunic, her nails digging into the leather as she struggled to remain standing if only so he wasn't holding her up by her neck alone.

"… Please!" she begged, tears pouring from her unseeing eyes.

And just like that, he released her and she fell to the floor, coughing violently as air entered her sorely depleted lungs.

Leaning down beside her, his tone deceptively soft, he said, "Never will you disrespect me again, and never will you mistake my reasons for saving you from that filth to be an act of kindness." Pausing, thinking, he mused more to himself, "Then again… it matters not what you do. Tomorrow, none of it will matter."

Amara's throat was rough, her voice hoarse as she asked timidly, "You… you said there would not be a day as beautiful as the one today, now you say –" she coughed, searching for her voice once more. "Now you say that tomorrow, none of it will matter. What is going to happen?"

Chuckling quietly, he replied, "Do not worry you mind with what is to come. It will merely drive you mad with fear."

"I'm already afraid."

"As you should be," he whispered in her ear, sending a fearful shiver of dread down her spine even as he hauled her to feet with a gentleness that was a stark contrast to his violent outburst a moment ago. "Now, let us return to the party lest your brother reveal our presence in the treasure room to be for reasons that we didn't say."

She merely nodded, to afraid and shaken to speak anymore even as her thoughts went into a panic.

Something was going to happen tomorrow, something that the stranger believed would drive her mad with fear if she knew.

Somehow, not knowing didn't scare Amara – it terrified her.

* * *

_**Review please! Reviews let me know that you wish for more!**_

_**All right, now I've got a question that's unrelated to this fic. **_

_**Do I have any Loki fans around here? **_

_**If so, I have recently become obsessed with that character and am itching to write a Loki/OFC fanfic, but my imagination could use a few ideas. If you have any ideas that could help jump start my imagination and help me get a plot going, feel free to share! Also, I currently have one idea that I'm toying around with if you'd like to hear it and give me feedback on it.  
**_


End file.
